


Purple Prose

by kethni



Category: Veep
Genre: F/M, Making Up, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kent gets a little revenge. Sue does not take it well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple Prose

 

Kent sat down at his desk, turned on his lamp, and opened the bottom drawer. Right at the back was a small, rarely used flask. He took a small sip, savoured the taste, and put the flask back in its spot. The point of a release valve was that it was for exceptional moments. He didn’t use alcohol as a crutch, the way Ben did. It wasn’t even a treat, the way it was for Sue. It was almost therapeutic, in that way.

The day had not been a good one. He wasn’t sure if POTUS had yet realised that the joint chiefs had deliberately out-manoeuvred them. He had a certain appreciation for the tactic. He respected intelligence and forward planning. Selina had been too predictable when she was generally too impulsive and imprudent to be anticipated. Ah, well. It hadn’t been _his_ idea to make such an obvious gambit.

Kent switched off his computer and squeezed the bridge of his nose. He was looking forward to a long, hot bath. Maybe he’d rent a movie.

There was a tall, gangly shape bent over Sue’s computer. Kent frowned and absently flexed his hand, remembering the sting when she’d slapped it. He wasn’t adverse to a little rough with his tumble but that had been all peevish agitation and no affection. Besides, they were no longer playfellows and she’d given up the right to use him as her whipping boy. So to speak.

Nonetheless, the person using her computer, and from the silhouette it could only be one person, had no business being there.

‘Mr Ryan, what’re you doing?’

‘Jesus on a pogo stick!’ Jonah’s flailing arm caught one of Sue’s monitors and nearly swept it from the desk. He leapt for it and managed to catch it before it hit the floor. ‘Oh fuck!’

‘Kindly refrain from the piquant language and explain yourself.’

Jonah struggled to return the monitor to the desk. ‘I’m… uh… I’m putting this back.’ He tried to avoid Kent’s eyes as he squared the monitor.

‘Before that.’

‘Uh, before that, sir?’

Kent turned the monitor around so he could see it. ‘You appear to have hacked into Sue’s computer.’

Jonah squirmed. ‘Uh, well, her password was _ridic_ easy to guess so arguably I’m doing everyone a favour in –' 

‘Are you remotely aware of the severity of the consequences of your actions?’

 Jonah grew pale. ‘Please, sir, please don’t fire me again. My resume is starting to look like I’m getting fired on a bet.’

Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘Fire you? Mr Ryan, you have _illegally_ accessed the schedule of the President of the United States. You have given yourself highly classified information that would be invaluable to terrorists.’

‘Illegal?’ Jonah collapsed down onto Sue’s chair. ‘Terrorists? Sir…I… I’m not a terrorist. Oh God. Am I going to prison? Please don’t send me to Guantanamo!’

 ‘This isn’t a Chotchkie’s. You have breached the security on a computer in the White House.’

Jonah rested his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands. ‘Oh God! Please don’t tell anyone. Please, I’ll do anything. _Anything._ ’

Kent rubbed his forehead. ‘Why did you do it?’

‘To give it to Vice President Doyle! He made me do it.’

‘The vice president made you break into Sue’s PC?’

Jonah shrugged. ‘Not _exactly_. He told me that… shit. He and Teddy wanted me to be their spy in the West Wing. So I found out about the joint chief of staff meeting but it had already started. I went running over there to tell them but by the time we all got to the West Wing the meeting was over. Have you tried running from the West Wing to the Eisenhower building and then all the way back again?’

‘I don’t run.’

‘Well, it’s exhausting! Also, I totally crashed into some lady staffer and she had, like, skeletor arms. I have a bruise!’

Kent shook his head. ‘Mr Ryan, attempting to correct you is like yelling at blancmange.’

Jonah sat up a little straighter. ‘What’re you going to do, sir?’

‘I’ll discuss it with the proper people in the morning.’

‘Please, _please_ Mr Davison _–’_

Kent waved his hand. ‘Go home, Mr Ryan, and do not tell anyone about this, least of all the vice president.’

‘Am I going to jail? I… I don’t think I would do well in prison.’

‘Not if I can help it.’

Jonah leapt to his feet. ‘Oh my God! Thank you! Thank you, so much!’ He threw open his arms and surged forward.

‘ _No_.’ Kent stepped back and raised his finger. ‘There will be no hugging.’

‘If there is anything I can do, ever, and I mean _anything_ , you tell me,’ Jonah said, taking a step back. ‘I’m your guy, Mr Davison. Wind, rain, or fire.’

Kent pointed away. ‘ _Go._ ’

‘Right, right.’ Jonah scurried towards the door.

‘Mr Ryan,’ Kent called. ‘How did you deduce Miss Wilson’s password?’

Jonah started to preen. ‘Most people choose super obvious things like their pet’s names or their kid’s. Stuff like that. Some other people might have more complicated ones but they write them down somewhere. Not that Sue did _that_.’

Kent walked around the desk and sat down at Sue’s chair. ‘She doesn’t have children or pets.’

‘No, well, I tried…’ He gestured at Kent. ‘Took three tries. First name. Surname. First name _and_ surname. That one worked. Maybe she forgot how to change it,’ he suggested. Jonah started to smirk. ‘ _Or_ …’

‘Goodnight, Mr Ryan.’ Kent waited until he heard Jonah’s footfalls recede before he exited the schedule on Sue’s computer. Just when he believed that Jonah had plumbed the absolute depths of idiocy, the imbecile found another level.

Sue’s desktop was a picture of a forest. No people were visible. No animals. Just a wooded world full of bright flowers and grass. Almost without conscious decision, _almost_ , Kent dragged the cursor over and looked for the recent documents. Once, when Sue was rather drunk and very relaxed, she told him that she sometimes amused herself at work with a little… _aha_. He double-clicked on the file.

**_‘He threw her down onto the sofa and leapt upon her, ripping open her silk blouse and gorging himself on her breasts…’_ **

Kent’s lips moved as he read the lines. He could only imagine the response if someone deliberately ripped one of Sue's blouses.

**_'She brought the wooden ruler down sharply across his firm buttocks. A vivid red welt blossomed like a kiss…’_ **

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Who had wooden rulers in this day and age? 

**_‘She slapped his hand. “That’s what happens!” she hissed._ **

**_He growled. A deep primal sound that made her passion fruit weep with hunger.’_ **

Kent narrowed his eyes. Passion fruit. Weeping. That was… Uh. Hmm. He sat back for a few thoughtful minutes. Then he began to type.

***

Kent walked into Ben’s office and shut the door. ‘I need a word.’

‘Have two: fuck off.’ Ben poured coffee into his giant mug.

‘Security breach,’ Kent retorted.

After a couple of seconds, Ben looked at him. ‘What?’

‘Apparently, Doyle has seconded Jonah to spy on POTUS. Evidently the vice president feels disdained.’

Ben snorted. ‘ _Disdained_? Of course he feels fucking left out. She’s leaving him out. Every fucking vice president whines that they’re stuck at the kiddie table and every POTUS insists on shoving them there.’ Ben sprawled back in his chair. ‘That how the VEEP knew about the meeting with the joint chiefs?’

Kent sat down. ‘Jonah says he went running over to the Eisenhower building as soon as he found out.’

Ben stared at him. ‘It’s twenty fucking fifteen, why didn’t he text?’

‘Because he’s Jonah: an imbecile.’ Kent interlaced his fingers. ‘I caught him breaking into POTUS’s schedule. He thought it would be easier just to give that to Doyle.’

‘What does that even mean?’

Kent shrugged. ‘He hacked into a computer that had access.’

‘What the fuck kind of system do we have that _Jonah_ can hack?’ Ben put his head in his hands. ‘This is a nightmare! Let’s just hand it all over to North Korea Or goddamn China. It’d be faster.’

‘The password she was using didn’t meet our guidelines. I’ve told information services to reconfigure the system so that weaker passwords won’t be accepted.

‘We can’t fire Jonah again,’ Ben said. ‘We’d look fucking ridiculous. Fire him, hire him, fire him. Christ.’

Kent nodded. ‘Should the information become public knowledge then he would likely suffer severe legal penalties. He’d go to prison and we’d look like bullies.’

Ben smiled slightly. ‘Jonah in prison though. It’s an appealing image.’

‘Nonetheless.’

‘We can’t lock people up for being idiots. We’d have no fucking staff.’ He drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t put the fear of _me_ into him. You got to fire him. It’s my turn.’

Kent held up his hands. ‘Take it with my pleasure.’

Ben took a sip of his coffee. ‘Whose machine was it?’

Kent hesitated for a moment. ‘Sue’s.’

‘Christ. Don’t tell her it was Jonah. Prison would be the least of his problems.’

***

Selina squinted at the guidelines for new passwords. ‘Jesus, this thing is the size of a dictionary.’

‘Well, it won’t be you using it,’ Ben said.

She skewed over as she tried to open her desk drawer, although Kent knew for a fact all she had in there were old issues of _Cosmopolitan_ and trashy novels. ‘Was it the Chinese?’ she asked.

‘Ma’am?’

‘This computer network incursion bullshit.’

‘No, Ma’am,’ Kent said. He wished the conversation wasn’t taking place with Dan and Amy also present. There was no telling in which direction either of them might shoot off.

‘Not the Chinese?’ Selina checked. ‘Because they do that stuff. I have security briefings on it.’

‘They do, yes, but not in this case.’

‘How do you know that?’ Amy asked. ‘Has he been traced already? Has he been arrested? Where’s he being held?’

‘Uh, this wasn’t a Tom Cruise movie,’ Ben said. ‘Nobody rappelled down the side of the building or used a secret tunnel. This was a single moronic member of staff guessing another member of staff’s password. That’s why the passwords are changing. Any password easy enough for a jackass like this jackass to guess, that’s a terrible password.’

‘So, the computer guys picked this up?’ Dan asked.

‘No. James Bland here practically tripped over the guy,’ Ben said, jerking his thumb at Kent. ‘Frankly, the idea of national security being theoretically dependant on Kent noticing someone is at the wrong desk scares the shit out of me.’

‘You've always had a surplus of it,’ Kent said.

‘What was the password?’ Dan asked. ‘Like their name or birthday or something?’

‘Who the hell uses their own name as a password?’ Amy wondered.

‘Some people have way too many other things on our minds,’ Selina snapped.

Kent set his shoulders. ‘Ma’am, the most important consideration for us to take from this unfortunate event is that the potentiality was far more severe than what actually eventuated.’

Selina blinked. ‘And in English?’

Ben shrugged. ‘Better we catch an idiot who didn’t mean any harm than not catch a smart spy or saboteur.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

Amy frowned as she clutched her sheaf of printouts. ‘Whose password was so goddamn easy that we all have to get cyber chastity belts?’

‘Don’t worry, Kent’s going to take her to task personally,’ Ben said with relish.

‘I am?’

‘Sure,’ Ben said. ‘Give her a stern talking to. Slap her on the wrist. You’ll enjoy that.’

Selina rolled her eyes. ‘So it was Sue. Do me a favour and don’t tell me her password.’

***

He should have approached her privately and scheduled a brief chat. Something low key. Nothing draconian. A quick, mild conversation about the importance of adequately protecting the data to which she had access. That was what he should have done. He didn’t. Instead, he waited. It was clearly a busy day for her because it wasn’t until mid-afternoon that she stomped into his office.

‘Sir.’

He was at his desk. She was in the doorway, shaking slightly. She had Ben’s password memo crushed in her fist. He’d been expecting annoyance, not an imminent explosion.

‘I’m rather busy Miss – ‘

She stepped into the room and slammed the door behind her.

‘ – but obviously I can always make time for you.’

‘Do you feel good humiliating me?’ she asked. ‘Does it make you feel strong and virile, Mr Davison?’

He almost denied it. She had a way of making him feel like a naughty boy. ‘That you had a password even Jonah could guess is your responsibility, not mine,’ he said instead.

She pressed her other hand to her forehead. ‘Why was Jonah hacking my computer if not because you put him up to it?’

She was breathing heavily. Her chest was rising and falling beneath her wrap-around blouse. Kent forced himself to look away.

‘It’s a networked machine,’ he said. ‘If I wanted access to your files then I would have it.’

She glowered at him for a few seconds before her shoulders dropped. ‘Oh.’

Kent shook his head. ‘I would never dream of involving Jonah in something like this.’

Sue raised her eyebrow. ‘I had no idea who it was. _You_ said it was Jonah.’

‘Ah. Pretend that didn’t happen.’

She crossed her arms. ‘Am I supposed to believe it was Jonah who accessed and edited my... personal files?’

Kent sat back in his chair and let his face clear. ‘Personal files, Miss Wilson?’ he asked innocently.

Her jaw moved as she gritted her teeth. ‘Yes, sir. Personal as in private.’

Kent crossed his legs at the knee. ‘What would ever possess an intelligent person to keep personal, private data on a workplace computer?’ He shook his head. ‘Not only does that seem woefully risky for your data integrity, I’m quite sure that it’s contrary to the White House electronic communications protocols.’

Sue snorted and put her hand on her hip. ‘You are being deliberately annoying.’

‘Why don’t you slap my hands?’

Sue looked away for a moment. When she looked back, she seemed more tired than angry. ‘Did Jonah read it?’

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she meant: but he could see that would be a step too far. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Mr Ryan was exclusively interested in POTUS’s schedule. Why is irrelevant.’

She sank down into his guest chair. ‘So it was you who accessed my files. I hoped you were above spitefully humiliating me.’

Kent opened and closed his mouth. ‘I… I never…’

‘It was _personal_ , Kent, and deeply private. I’m sure that was blatantly obvious.’ She pinned him with her gaze. ‘You broke my trust. For you to read it was invasive enough. That you mocked it, that you probably showed it to god knows who –’

‘No,’ he said, loud enough to surprise them both. ‘I didn’t show it to anyone. I would never do that.’

Sue closed her eyes briefly and released a breath. ‘So there is a limit to how far you are willing to demean me. I suppose you think I should be grateful for it.’

‘Sue, I never intended to...’ Kent’s hands sketched in the air. ‘Clearly I made a most egregious error of judgement.’

She smoothed back her hair. ‘What did you intend?’

He put his hand on the desk and stared at the surface of the wood. He felt fatuous and imbecilic. ‘I only wished to... vex you a little. My comments on your material weren’t intended as mockery.’

Sue pursed her lips. ‘A detailed and brutal critique of a woman’s sexual fantasies are not the adult version of pulling pigtails, Kent.’

He opened the bottom drawer of his desk. ‘My tone was a little... trenchant, admittedly, but I didn’t say anything I didn’t believe. Criticism hones the intellect.’

Sue looked him in the eye. ‘Unwanted and offensively worded criticism.’

Kent looked away.

‘It wasn’t supposed to be seen by anyone else,’ Sue said, crossing her legs. ‘Ever. It was purely for my enjoyment. A few poorly chosen metaphors and ill-defined characters are beside the point.’

Kent sighed as he poured two small glasses of scotch. He pushed one over to her and then slid his chair around the desk. ‘I am genuinely repentant and deeply apologetic.’

He tentatively touched her hand. She glared at him, but didn’t move her hand away.

‘Does anyone else know?’ she asked.

‘About your creative work?’

She nodded.

‘If I say no, are you going to murder me and hide my body?’

‘Don’t tempt me.’ Sue sighed. ‘No. But if you say yes, I will have to beat you to within an inch of your life, and then do the same to anyone else who knows.’

‘Naturally I didn’t mention it to anyone else.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I have no desire to embarrass you. Additionally I had no more business accessing your computer than Jonah did.’

‘I had not considered that.’ She picked up one of the glasses and drained it. She pursed her lips as she looked at the glass. ‘How long have you been keeping whiskey in your desk?’

‘It’s medicinal,’ he claimed.

‘Are you a civil war soldier lying hacked open on a battlefield?’

Kent frowned slightly. He was still touching her hand. The warmth of her skin was making it difficult for him to think. ‘Am I what?’

‘Are you a civil war soldier awaiting primitive surgery without anaesthetic,’ she said crisply.

‘Uh, no.’

‘Then it is not medicinal.’ She put down the glass and held out her hand. ‘Give it to me.’

‘What?’

‘Give me the whiskey.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘I will not allow you to degenerate into Ben.’

Kent meekly put flask in her hand. ‘You won’t allow it?’

‘Is there an echo in this room?’ She stood up, pulling her hand away from his, and tucked the flask into her pocket. ‘May I suggest, sir, that the next time you feel the need to pull my pigtails, you have the decency to take me to dinner first.’

Kent blinked. He straightened his tie and smoothed his hair. ‘Would you –’

‘Not tonight.’

‘Oh.’

‘I am still extremely annoyed with you.’

‘Ah.’ He took a slip of his whiskey. ‘Tomorrow night?’

‘No. Still too soon.’ Sue crossed her arms across her chest.

Kent winced. ‘I irritated you to that degree?’

‘Yes. You did.’

He ran his thumb around the lip of his glass. ‘Perhaps Friday?’

Sue thought about it. ‘Friday would be acceptable.’ She turned and opened the door.

Kent forced himself not to smile. ‘I’ll put it in my schedule: Friday evening, pull Miss Wilson’s pigtails.’

She turned on her heel and looked at him. ‘Do I need to slap your hands again?’

‘It doesn’t have to be my hands.’

‘Friday,’ she said.

‘I look forward to it.’


End file.
